A much needed break

As I sit here filling in my application form for sainthood I think about the good work that is done over the holiday period. As families tear away with loaded wagons stuffed full of deflated mattresses and enough insect repellent to repel any creature this side of the equator I am actually quite happy to be at work. It's a quiet time. A time of reflection on the year ahead (star sign reading) research and development (Internet surfing) and quiet contemplation (the only emails you get are rude jokes from the other two people in the office). So with empty traffic lanes and vacant seats on trains the workers continue on against the tide of holiday makers stressing their way through the winding roads of holiday hell, the family holiday. Children are no more likely entertained on holiday than you are with a game of naked tunnel ball with the elderly couple in the next caravan. As you slave away in the holiday kitchen of fake wood panelling and stained stainless steel you briefly recall your Grecian marble benchtop kitchen whilst noting that every kitchen draw comes with its own set of matching cockroaches. On Christmas day you drag the family out of bed "to do the right thing" and begrudgingly traipse them off to the local church. They are packed in like sardines as you stand shoulder to shoulder in the doorway straining to hear the muffled sounds of the sermon against the coughs, sounds of children whining and the local hoons cruising up the street with windows down and woofers booming. It's nearly time to go back to the campsite and start to scrape at least 2 years of the barbecue. Meanwhile back at the office the tumbleweeds pick up the afternoon breeze and roll past your desk. It's home time.